A Pool of Blood
by USUKluv
Summary: This is a Supernatural/Hetalia crossover fanfiction, but I refuse to put it in the crossover section. Why? Because it most likely won't be seen by many people there. A summary probably isn't needed if you watch Supernatural, but just know there will be much romance and violence.
1. A Sort-of Intro

**Alrighty! So I wrote this for my lovely girlfriend, based off of one of our roleplays.  
This is a Supernatural/Hetalia crossover fanfiction, but I refuse to put it in the crossover section because it most likely won't be seen there.**

If you don't watch Supernatural then perhaps this will spark your interest. ^^

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Surrounding the damp, dark basement's walls were blades and guns of all sorts, each individual weapon sparkling as faint light lit their surfaces. Each one was menacing... mischievous. It was clear they could deal a great amount of damage. Pain was their purpose, after all. Standing on a wooden table were jars, each containing a different liquid or substance. Some of which could be questionable. The table was sturdy, yet it had an aura about it that said it had been in that same particular spot for a great amount of time, perhaps decades. What's most saddening about this table is the fact it has probably had the same sinful items on it as it had ten years previous.

The basement was mute save for the occasional "drip" of water from upstairs and a few shuffling footsteps. The sound of a metallic door slamming shut echoed off the concrete walls as a bright light streamed in from the stairs... it was almost blinding. There was a silent hiss as a man tied to a chair in the middle of the basement writhed against the bondage keeping him seated, his eyes flaring angrily.

His arms strained along with his legs yanking at the rope, but his efforts were futile... there was no escaping. Boots thumped silently against the cold gray floor, pausing in front of the struggling prisoner. No sound was heard from the newcomer, Arthur, as he held up a small vial. A thick red liquid swished around in the tiny glass bottle, covering the previously clear glass and tinting it dark red.

The blonde man pulled out a shot container and a needle, dipping it into the liquid. With a tiny chuckle he spoke with a firm English accent. It was poison to the prisoner's ears. "I take it you know what this is."

Arthur's face was void of any emotion, he had become used to this routine. Hunt, capture, interrogate, then kill. Simple enough. It wasn't a job he had chose to do, but someone had to. This particular creature in front of him was a vampire, a vicious one at that. It had been found outside of Peoria, Illinois, creeping around as if it were on guard. That was a sign there was a vampire nest somewhere inside of the city. Now that he had him captured though, there were two decisions: The vampire would either tell him where the nest was and die quickly, OR the idea would be rejected and he would die painfully. Arthur didn't really care which option it chose.

"Where's the rest of you?" he questioned in the same calm voice, kneeling down in front of the bound humanoid. The other gritted his teeth and chuckled bitterly, his eyes flashing with many emotions at once. It was clear he didn't know whether to answer seriously or try to mess around.

"I'm right here, what are you talking about?" he breathed, snickering as he choked out the last few words. With an annoyed sigh Arthur let his hair fall over his face, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. The prisoner stared at him, knowing what was about to happen. Slowly Arthur raised his hand and swooped down with the needle, piercing the needle into the vampire's arm. Dead Man's Blood, a weakness to vampires. It practically immobilizes them, which is incredibly useful when hunting a nest. As the thick red liquid flowed out of the needle and into the vampire's arm the creature shrieked, its many rows of fangs bared as it tried to lunge forward and harm the person causing him agony.

Panting heavily the man leaned back in the chair, his eyes holding a sort of defiance that Arthur had gotten used to. Same song and dance..catch the vamp, torture it a bit, go kill the rest of their little coven. They always confess sooner or later. "We'll try this again, where is your nest?" the Brit murmured in a hushed tone, lifting a machete from the old table. The blonde flicked his thumb over the blade and smiled as a droplet of blood formed at his finger. The metal glowed dimly, the flickering of the candles giving it a menacing look.

The vampire spit on the ground near Arthur's shoes, still trying to recover from his injection. "Alright..." he choked out at last, gritting his teeth together. The veins on his neck could be seen clearly, as well as the heaving of his chest. "Outside of this city. . . there's a trail leading away from the main highway.." the prisoner paused to swallow his own blood. "It leads to the woods, there you'll find a little shack..there's not many there."

Arthur nodded and pursed his lips, looking down at the blade he carried. "Alright. I'm glad you cooperated." he chuckled, holding up his weapon. The bound man wriggled, pulling against the rope. "It's the truth, I swear!" he shouted before his head flew off and onto the ground, blood forming a puddle around it. Slowly Arthur lowered the machete and set it back on the table, not bothering to make a move to wipe the blood off. He'd do that later when he wasn't busy.

However, the bloodied needle was a different story entirely. Who knew what diseases that fucker had before he had been transformed into a monster? Snatching up a white rag with splotches of red stains scattered on it he wiped his hands, holding the shot gingerly. His boots made hardly any sound as he traveled back up the stairs, pushing on the door and watching it swing open. Kicking it shut he traveled to the bathroom, rinsing off the needle in hot water. The sound of another door swinging open was heard, and a bag being thrown on the ground.

Almost as if he knew he was being watched he turned around with a sigh. "Quit staring. Yes, I killed him." he grumbled, wiping his hands on a clean towel as he stalked out.

"Well...did you at least get the location of the nest?" Alfred inquired, his eyebrows furrowed in the same way they did when he was pointing out the obvious or trying to act innocent. It pissed him off just a tad bit.

"Of course I did, who do you take me for?" he returned, pulling on his jacket and throwing open the front door. "Go get the machete. Wash it off first, though. I'll be waiting in the car." As he walked out he felt the eyes burn into his back once more, another thing that ticked him off. Once inside the car he leaned against the window, staring out. Before he knew it his eyes were drooping closed, and he couldn't even force them back open.

He was jerked awake as the sound of a car engine starting up, the passenger side's door slamming shut. There sat Alfred, the machete in his lap and his hand leaving the ignition. "I just uh..turned on the car for you" he stated in an obvious tone, nodding. Staying silent the Brit flexed his jaw, pulling out of the driveway. This life got so boring sometimes... when could they just stop hunting? They had earned a right to a life! But no, that would never happen. Arthur wouldn't be able to let it happen even if he tried. He knew deep down he would be forced back into this lifestyle..there was no way out.

The entire time during their small car trip Arthur had been drifting off, and before he knew it they were at the small path he had been informed about. "This is the place.." he mumbled, stepping out of the car and glancing around. Alfred followed him out, the machete clenched tightly in his hand. "We should have brought two.." he chuckled, lifting up his jacket to check for his gun. "That will weaken them a tiny bit!"

"You're acting too cheerful. It's creeping me out. Can we just hurry this up? I'm hungry." With an exasperated sigh the Brit trudged forward down the path, trying to make no sound. The American beside him just pranced forward, leaves crackling and all. "Idiot..." he hissed before following his example. He had only been trying to be cautious. A snap from behind them caused the shorter blonde to spin around, his eyes scanning the area. He hadn't realized he was backing up until he felt himself collide with the other man. Jumping he kept pressed against Alfred, who was in a defensive stance as well.

The sound of something running through the foliage at a high speed was all around them... it was more than one set of footsteps. A flash of silver flew out from behind a tree, Arthur's arm flying up to deflect it. Of course, this left a slit in his jacket. "Dammit.." he grumbled.  
"Arthur..can't you just worry about that later?" he questioned as the sound of running halted.

The silence was deafening. There was absolutely nothing. Chuckling filled both of their ears as four people stepped out from hiding. Although thinking back, they probably weren't people. He felt Alfred tense behind him. Two vampires for each of them...that way they would be fair on kills. The vampires stepped closer to the hunters in unison, tightening the circle they had around them. One of the vampires broke the circle and lunged, her fangs bared as her eyes blood thirsty. The older man landed with a huff, pushing himself backwards with his feet to get away. Once he was stable on his feet he aimed and fired at the woman, hitting her square in the chest.

Before he could even struggle a muscular arm was wrapped around his throat, holding him there. Shit. This wasn't how he planned to go about his night! Alfred was fighting his own battle, the machete slicing through the air and slicing the head off of one of the bloodsuckers. An idea popped into his head: television! You'd be surprised how much can be learned from the TV.

Dropping the gun he gripped the man's arm, placing one foot in front of the other and flipping him over his back. The others arm twisted at an odd angle. "Alfred!" he called out, the American knowing what to do.

He was tossed the long blade, chopping off the temporarily immobilized monster's head with a slick and professional movement. For a moment everything was wonderful. Adrenaline pumping through his veins...the vampire dead at his feet and the other one stunned on the ground. That was until he heard a shout, making Arthur spin to face Alfred. He had a vamp on top of him, its hands wrapped around his throat and its mouth opened in preparation to bite. Gritting his teeth the blonde charged forward and swung the machete, panting as the head practically flew off its neck.

Alfred swallowed and gasped for air, rubbing the red ring around his neck. "Took you long enough.." he panted, blinking furiously. "Did ya kill them all?" he questioned, his eyes scoping the area until they fell on the crawling woman. Nodding Arthur jabbed the silver into her neck, the head sliding off. "Now I did."

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**That's the end of Chapter 1! Feel free to leave reviews and all that fun stuff~  
I'll most likely be updating this one /very/ frequently, because I actually adore this kind of thing.  
**


	2. A Lone Feather

**A/N: Here's chapter two, guys. ^3^**  
**Hope you enjoy~ I meant to upload it sooner but I've been trying to catch up with my schoolwork ejghgbgbher.**  
**Only two half days left of school and I have bloody finals. Yay for me!**

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Trickling was the only sound heard in the damp, chilled room. The only thing that lit the space was the moonlight streaming in through the window along with the small fire in the fireplace that was slowly burning out. As the last of the flames flickered out no one made a move to throw more wood in, for fear of disturbing the calm silence. It may not last a while. In the middle of the room was a long table, a silky tablecloth draped over it and rustling only slightly from the minute amounts of air slipping past the windows.

A top this table were unlit candles, looking as if they had never been used before. Their wicks were tall due to the fact this sort of people didn't need a great amount of light. The candles were in tiny groups, three candles every five feet or so. A large, golden colored chandelier hung from the ceiling, giving the room an aristocratic look to it. At one end of the table sat a man around the height of 5'7, his elbows on the table and his chin resting in the palms of his hands. A frown was pulled over his face, and two women stood on either side of him, practically climbing all over him. He made no move to push them off as they cherished him, just continued to stare at the wall on the other side of the room.

The two women were forced to pull away from the sitting man as a small party of other men approached, their faces neutral. No sort of emotion passed over their eyes; they were like statues. Moving statues, but statue-like all the same. The man at the table picked up a wine glass delicately, holding it up to his mouth and drinking. However, the liquid pouring past his lips wasn't red wine, no, much too thick. One of the newcomers leaned down to the others level and murmured a message in his ear, one of the females from earlier resuming her place at the leader's shoulder.

As the messenger pulled back the chair flew out from under the previously sitting male, his entire body remaining relaxed as it had been before. The two girls opened their mouths and hissed a bit, allowing their rows of fangs to show in warning to the messenger. The lead vampire gently pushed them away, turning to face the newcomers. His fangs, however, never seemed to sprout. He had much self control. "It was your duty to make sure no more of our nests were killed off," he murmured softly, his fingers playing with a pendant around his neck. "You're telling me you've failed? I guess it's really not important now, though!" he growled, his voice rising with every word.

"Find them. Bring them to me. Don't you dare kill them... that would just prove we're as brutal as they think." With a smirk he resumed his seat, sipping the blood from the wine glass. As the party of vampires didn't leave he waved his hand. "Go!"

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Arthur leaned against the door of his sleek black car, his legs crossed in front of him. In one hand he held a cup of tea, yes tea, and in the other he spun the keys around his index finger, not taking notice to the annoying jingling it caused. The Brit scraped the heel of his boot against the ground, trying to occupy himself as he waited to Alfred to finish up inside the gas station. The guy took **forever**. He was probably drooling over all the food. Either that or starting conversation with the cashier, who was a pretty attractive woman from what the blonde could see from the window. But no, Alfred was always too clueless to catch on to flirting.

As a bell chimed from behind him he turned around, taking a sip from his mug. "What took you so long?" he inquired as the younger approached the car, whistling.

"Huh? Oh I was just getting a newspaper!" A smile came over his face and he waved it around wildly. How embarrassing. "Kill me now.." Arthur muttered to himself as he opened the car door and got in, closing it slowly to make sure it wasn't too loud. On the other hand, Alfred just hopped in and slammed the thing shut, causing much noise. "Bloody hell.." he grumbled, shoving the key into the ignition and snatching the newspaper from Alfred.

"Hey! I was gonna read that!" The American protested, practically climbing over the older male to try and get it back.  
"You, read? Think whatever you want..but you aren't intelligent enough to read."  
"Hey..that was cruel."  
"Yeah?" Arthur rolled his eyes and smirked, setting the newspaper in the blonde's lap. "I'm only teasing."  
"I know. The only reason I got one is to see if we could find a job. Sitting around doing nothing is bugging me." the younger explained, biting his lip as he read through the paper, succeeding in tearing part of it as he flipped a page.  
"I figured you would of enjoyed the break. After all, it's rare we get one."  
"Yeah but... Dude, hanging around you gets boring after a while."

From there on out Arthur was completely silent, his hand just barely gripping the wheel as he drove. How was gambling boring? If Alfred didn't want money that's fine by him, but in the Brit's eyes without gambling they would have nothing. No money for motels...for food. He'd like to see the other do everything he did! Pffft- he wouldn't survive. Still, even though the other was as annoying as a child at times, Arthur would always feel the need to protect him. The Brit had looked at Alfred as an inexperienced teenager until about a year ago, when he started to mature a bit. One thing was for sure, the Brit would definitely put himself in the face of danger before he would Alfred. Sometimes he wondered if what he felt for the younger man was just brotherly affection or something more. It wasn't like they were actually related, but Arthur wasn't good at these kind of things! Not that it would matter anyway, nothing between them would change. One of the two would die and leave the other shattered.

What a nice look on life he had: Death and more death. Pffft- Romance was something totally unheard of to the Brit. Well, true romance, anyway. Sure, he had taken a lot of people to his bed over the years but it had never been actually romantic. That need to be with the person always, not just a one night stand. Part of him wanted to know what that was like but part of him knew it was impossible. Slowly he was snapped out of his thoughts by Alfred, who was pointing ahead at the sign of a restaurant beside the road. "Can we can we?" he asked in a hyper tone, and Arthur could of sworn he heard the American's stomach growl. "...Fine" he smiled and let off the gas slightly, pulling into a parking space. Could they park any tighter? Alfred was already out of the car and hurrying into the building to get them seats as Arthur finally struggled past the car parked beside him, trying not to scratch it in any way.

Once seated at the table he glanced around, noticing women in skimpy outfits and men dressed like they could beat anyone's ass. Just what kind of place had they stopped to eat at? There were a few people seated at the bar, swaying and laughing obnoxiously. Although as his green eyes traveled down the line of people seated there he noticed a woman who looked completely sober like she hadn't been drinking. He took her in, the dress she was wearing and the way she sat gracefully, her legs crossed in a professional matter. She raised her hand slowly and swept some of her hair over her shoulder, sending a fleeting glance in Arthur's direction. His observations were interrupted by a fry hitting him on the cheek, leaving a dab of ketchup. Another one came immediately after the first, this time landing in his mouth. "Alfred I swear to God.." he mumbled as he ate the fry, turning to the American who had a tint of jealousy in his eye, although Arthur would never know.

"She isn't your type" he stated while shrugging, popping fries into his mouth as fast as he could chew. "Too strict looking"  
"Maybe I like my women strict." a slight grin came over his face for a second, which was interrupted by a pickle soaring toward him.  
"I'm only saying you should be careful, I don't like the looks of her."  
"You shouldn't be one judging, Alfred. You're so pudgy yet you have the balls to judge someone else by appearances?"  
"I'm not fat!" he growled, his voice rising.  
The woman turned to look at them both before hopping off the stool. She strode to their table and walked past, her hand just barely brushing the older man's as she retreated out of the building. Arthur tensed and stared at the younger for a second, swallowing. Something definitely wasn't right about her... the touch had been cold, but inviting. How was that even possible, warm things were always the best! Guess her temperature matched her personality. The look she had given Alfred hadn't been the best either. It was a look of loathing, like he had ruined some master plan she had going on. Perhaps she had been listening to them the entire time...

"Do I need to fling another fry at you?"  
"Ah- No! That won't be needed...let's get out of here." As he stood a ringing filled his ears, his automatic reflex being to slap his hand over them. Everyone else int he restaurant did the same, before a flash lit the entire building. The ringing ceased and a crack was then heard, the entire left side of the building collapsing. Both of the blonde's leaped under the table and peered out, shielding their heads against debris and clenching their eyes shut from the dust. What the hell?! That question was probably running through Alfred's mind as well. "You okay?" Arthur choked out, inspecting the younger beside him who nodded wearily, only a small splotch of blood being on his hand.

"This is just from me crushing the glass I was holding.." he chuckled, letting out a hacking cough as dust invaded his lungs. The lights flickered and they looked ahead at the collapsed side of the building, a few people on the right side screaming and hurrying to call 911. A hand stuck out from underneath the tower of rubble, completely limp as a trail of blood traveled down the arm and off the tip of the index finger.

Who would of done such a thing? No one here had actually looked like they were completely crazy and wanted to kill people. Sure, there was that woman but she didn't look /that/ mean! Crawling forward the Brit began to heave some of the rubble off the sides, trying to at least free some of the people underneath. Sirens were soon heard as Alfred joined him, tossing pieces of wood and brick over his shoulder into a smaller pile. "Let's get out of here" he murmured to his companion as the other people began to help; they weren't needed here anymore. Standing he rushed out the back door, freezing for a few seconds to kneel down and pick something up from a small pile of rubble. Holding it up to the light he smiled as a feeling of peace came over him. It was a long white feather that had stayed almost perfectly clean despite all the dust and dirt.

Alfred grabbed the other man's wrist and dragged him away as he remained in his little trance, his eyes almost twinkling. The Brit barely noticed as he was shoved into the passenger's seat of his car, Alfred jamming the key into the ignition. Before the Brit could argue the American snatched the gorgeous feather away, tossing it into the back seat. "Snap out of it, dude" he growled, speeding away as fast as possible before the cops could arrive. "But Alfred-" A hand was slapped over his mouth, a signal to not argue. "Just shut up." he murmured, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Arthur smiled and looked out the window with a dazed expression, humming quietly. What sort of drug was he on exactly? He felt drunk... like he was floating.

Pulling into a motel Alfred threw open the car door almost angrily, pulling Arthur out after him. Glancing in the back seat of the car he noticed the feather, and his shoulders slumped for a moment. As soon as the American seemed relaxed Arthur snapped back to reality, diving into the car and pulling out the feather. One they were successfully checked into a motel room they both seated themselves on one of the bed, staring at the feather for a good amount of time.

"Crane?" Alfred proposed, staring at it.  
"No...can't be..."  
"Some sort of albino eagle thing? Help me out here! Goose?"  
"Swan" he stated simply, shrugging as he glanced into Alfred's eyes for little less than a second.  
"So maybe we have some sort of shapeshifter...it's a possibility after all"

"No, if a shapeshifter lost a feather wouldn't it disappear as soon as the shapeshifter changed into human? Plus, an actual animal wouldn't have the technology to blow up half of a building."  
A silence filled the room for a few seconds before Alfred stood, stretching. "Well maybe it was just your average explosion, just because there's a feather doesn't mean there's something weird going on. Maybe someone has a pet swan or goose or something. Or maybe an animal was foraging for food-"  
"Foraging for food where, Alfred?" he growled, setting the feather on the bed. "From what I saw there was no dumpsters or anything back there, and you felt the same feeling I did when you looked at the thing!"

"Well then...maybe a witch?" he murmured more hesitantly after hearing the older snap. It seemed the aftermath of the feather's calming power was for the person to get angry.  
"That's better...go get the books." he mumbled, flopping on the bed with his head in his hand. The blonde sighed, his fingers clenched in his hair. Why was he so angry? Part of him wanted to grab Alfred by his shirt collar and punch him until he passed out. But he didn't know /why./ As Alfred searched through a book or two Arthur buried his face into a pillow, going almost completely limp. What sort of thing would leave behind a swan feather at an explosion? Maybe a witch was doing their dirty work through an animal. Or perhaps it was some sort of serial killer's tactic. Must be some crazy psychopath to leave behind a bloody swan feather at a crime scene. After long the sound of a mouse clicking interrupted Arthur's thoughts and he lifted his head to stare in Alfred's direction. "Got anything?"

"Actually uh...yeah, sort of. It seems unlikely to be what we're dealing with... it isn't exactly a witch but it's close." he shook his head and nibbled at his lower lip, staring intently at the screen. "The feather is probably from some sort of cloak used to transform into an animal...in this case swan."  
"So...skinwalker?"  
"Not exactly... You know swan maidens? They're part of Norse mythology. Women who wear a cloak of feathers that allow them to transform into a swan by just wrapping it around them. They also have other abilities that a witch would have, but they go about it a more peaceful way. That's why it doesn't make sense..if they're peaceful then why would one try to destroy a building?"

"Perhaps she's being controlled. Isn't it something like...if a man steals her swan skin that she would be bound to him?"  
"Yeah, exactly... so it's either a swan maiden gone bad, or one of them is being controlled by some twisted dude." Alfred shrugged, shutting the computer.

Where do they start then? Perhaps if the restaurant had security cameras near the back door they could at least figure out what she looked like. If she was truly being ruled by an abusive "husband", then surely she would seek help from someone. The only thing the Brit could think of was looking at the tapes, or going around a few neighborhoods and seeing if there was anything that looked out of the ordinary. Keep an eye out for women with bruises on their arms and that kind of thing when they were out in public. Or chicks with lots of children. That could be a sign too.

"One thing's for sure though" Alfred chuckled, flopping down on the bed next to him. "There isn't going to be any swan maiden being outside tonight..after pulling a stunt like that they couldn't afford to get caught." A little yawn left him and he glanced at Arthur, who had been watching him the entire time. A tiny smile crept over the Brit's lips and he erased it, rolling over onto his side. "You're right..we'll save it until things calm down a bit..make them think we forgot..." he trailed off with his face turned into his pillow, his chest rising and falling peacefully. Must have been pretty exhausted to fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

Alfred smiled and stood, draping a blanket over the older before retreating back to his bed. Arthur was such a child at times.

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**A/N: Cheesy Alfred is cheesy but adorable. :3**  
**This is where a lot of the hidden feelings start to come in, guys~ Just wanted to put that out there. Oh and also, the reason I don't continue this in the same chapter is because I try to give myself a word limit in a way. Or else I would go overboard and bore you guys even more than I already do with detail. X3 ^-^**


	3. Swan Maiden: Found

**A/N: Chapter three, guys. ^-^ Hope you like!  
From here on out I'm going to start putting some romantic feels in here~  
I'm just going to inform you now...there /will/ be smexy times in later chapters, but I'll make sure to put a warning in case you don't want to read that. It will most likely be an extra chapter so it's easier to be skipped over.  
**

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"Why are you handing me this?" The American questioned as he was handed a machete and a pistol, one to be held in each hand. "We're going after a woman that could possibly be harmless.." He trailed off, pursing his lips as he eyed Arthur, who was kneeling down to gather his weapons into a bag.  
"You have a point, but say this swan maiden actually is under someone's control... we might have to kill him. Or her."  
"Yeah but-"  
"And if she isn't being controlled, then we'll just kill her instead." It was as simple as that. Why did the other blonde have to keep asking questions? It wasn't like they hadn't done this before.

Standing he let his hand rest on the younger's shoulder, a tiny smile gracing his lips. "It will be fine, I promise. We won't hurt her if we don't have to. We still don't totally know the situation." At his words Alfred nodded hesitantly, following the Brit out of the room and into the dim daylight. It was a nice day, the sun's rays warming them. Arthur rolled his shoulders and tilted his head back, his face facing the sky. Alfred walked ahead of him with an arched eyebrow. "What, have you never seen the sun before?" he teased, winking.  
"Feels like it.." Deciding he could sunbathe later he followed after Alfred, walking past the car. The restaurant wasn't far away, so it wouldn't hurt to walk. That and it would be noticeable if a car pulled up to the scene... there were bound to be cops there.

They had that possibility taken care of as well; fake IDs were always wonderful. They could come across as actual FBI agents to the inexperienced eye. So far they hadn't been caught by anyone, which was welcomed. The two men had enough shit on their plate all the time; being chased by the government wasn't another thing they needed to concern themselves with.

After a nice fifteen minute walk they came upon the sight of the explosion, eying the few police cars that still lingered. An officer approached them, their cue to whip out the badges. Arthur held his up and Alfred did the same with a smirk before putting it back in his pocket. They pushed past the officer and entered the building through the front door and looked around, noticing some of the debris had been cleared away. There was a blood stain in the center of the floor that had obviously been scrubbed at for a while, but had never came up whatsoever.

"Okay. You go look around, see if you can find anything else that might help us...any kind of dust that seems oddly colored or a piece of clothing... you know." he instructed to Alfred, waving his hand. "While you do that, I'm going to go look at surveillance." If there was any, anyway. With a nod began to tread over some of the leftover rubble, pausing beside the bar. He eyed all the liquor and glass, seriously debating on whether or not he should take some of it. Scolding himself mentally he pushed past the bar and opened a large door, closing it behind him. Ahead of the man was a long hallway that opened up into a round room where there were two sinks. It looked like the place where a bar would store it's pudding and jello and small things like that. Little cups and such. As he came upon the open room he entered a much smaller room on the right that had four different televisions in it.

Arthur inspected them curiously and pursed his lips with a quiet huff, his eyes darting over each screen. Scooting into the small, closet-like room his eyes eventually caught on to which television was sending images from where he found the feather. Turning off the rest of the televisions he rewound the TV, his emerald eyes glued to it the entire time. He paused as he came across the part where the door was being blown off, staring at the screen. After a few seconds he began rewinding it again, smiling in a feeling of triumph as a woman began to walk around... backwards. She had long hair that went down to her mid-back and a curvy, hourglass figure. She was fairly tall and had a tiny face with soft-looking lips. Something the Brit would definitely call a maiden. It's a shame it wasn't in color, maybe then he could appreciate her better if it were.

Just as she looked like she was about to walk away she turned her head toward the camera, looking at it with a sad kind of look. Her eyes held so much grief and pain, and so much longing. Throwing open the door he took the tap with him, stuffing it inside his jacket. Rushing out of the back so as not to be seen he caught up with Alfred by the back door, who was on the ground searching literally everywhere for any sort of clue. As the Brit approached Alfred held up a little bag with a piece of hair in it. "Will this help?"  
Arthur nodded hurriedly, opening his jacket a bit to show the tape. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

After re-watching the video fifteen different times; okay major exaggeration, they watched it about five times; they went to the internet for more research. Turns out, there's some scary shit on the internet... all they had to do was search for married women in the town and after digging deep enough they got a list of names with photos and all. Scary shit, right? Well, after they had found a picture of the girl they obviously knew her name as well, so the next step had been to find her address. Makes you wonder just how much information about you is on the internet for strangers to see.

Now all they had to do was find some way to approach her and hopefully not kill anyone. Now they were parked outside the house they believed to be hers, guns tucked under their jackets and the feather in the back seat. Why they brought it, he'd never know. Stepping out of the car they both closed it quietly, creeping up to the door. Arthur leaned over and peeked in the window, making a motion for Alfred to follow him.

The blondes held their guns out at arms length, their eyes sweeping over the house as they prowled in. There was a staircase to the right, and almost reading Arthur's mind his companion started up them. The house was almost completely silent, save for the occasional creak in the wood or a drop of water from the sink. The television was on in the living room, although no one was watching it. It was the only thing that lit the room, even then it wasn't very good lighting due to the constant flashing as if changed commercials. All the Brit heard was a heavy step before something flew into the back of his head, making him stumble forward. He fell onto the couch and lie there in a daze for a moment, his vision blurred.

Strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him back, tossing him into the wall as if he were a rag doll. The pistol flew from his hand and slid near the foot of the couch, too far for the blonde to reach.

His attacker, a man that looked to be in his mid-forties, stalker to him and wrapped a hand around his throat with a firm grip. Arthur's hands pulled at the other's and he wriggled a bit, gasping for air. The man pinning him against the wall shifted, and Arthur saw his opportunity. Before his vision even had the chance to start fading to black he lifted his right leg and kicked the hostile man on his knee, sending him stumbling backwards. Having heard the ruckus going on downstairs Alfred shot down them, aiming his gun directly as the attacker's head. Trailing behind him was the woman from the video, her blonde hair tussled and fresh bruises on her cheeks and arms. She looked hesitant and scared, and most of all: trapped.

The man held up his hand in surrender and took a step away from Arthur, limping. Arthur gasped for breath and leaned against the wall, nodding at his companion. "Alright. Where's the swan skin?" Alfred inquired, stepping in front of him. "Surely you know it's wrong to keep a girl in a marriage against her will, right? You're sick, dude. Not cool." he frowned, shrugging. "But it's okay, because we saved her, and you can't do anything to stop us." Taking that as a challenge the criminal took a step forward, but was stopped by his knee. Letting out a grunt he glared at the woman, who clutched the end of her nightgown for dear life; it was clear she didn't trust any of the men in the room. She probably thought once her previous captor was taken care of that Arthur and Alfred would steal her away and keep her as a "toy."

The Brit sent her a reassuring smile, which only seemed to terrify her more. "Well then.." he grumbled to himself, heading up the stairs. The guy who was holding her prisoner looked like he was exhausted a older than he really was. From experience Arthur knew he must have a hangover, a really bad one at that. All he knew was that if it had been him with the never-ending hangover, he wouldn't really want to think of a clever hiding place. So...what was a simple place to hide something important? In between the mattresses. He only knew because there was times when he didn't want Alfred to find his secret stash of- it doesn't matter.

Clearing his throat he strode into a large room, figuring it must be the "couple's" room. It was dirty and darker than the rest of the house... beer cans littered the floor and end-stands. Damn, even Arthur wasn't this bad! Approaching the bed he shoved his hands under the first mattress and lifted it above his head, smiling triumphantly as he saw the swan skin. Oh, the joys of knowing how drunks work! Holding up the mattress with one hand his other retrieved the cloak, retreating out of the room afterwards. He was thankful to be out, the room smelled like shit. Once back downstairs he held up the swan skin, smiling from around it. "Found it."

The woman's eyes lit up immediately and she let out a little squeal-like noise, rushing forward the snatch it from his hands. She held it close to her and backed away from the three of them, the drunk man now having passed out. Dashing out of the back door she pulled it over herself and was gone. Alfred ran out after her and furrowed his eyebrows. "Wonder what all he did to her to make her so...scared. It didn't say anything about Swan Maidens being naturally scared of anything... actually, they're supposed to be really proud." he tilted his head to the side and glanced over his shoulder at Arthur before looking at the passed out man. "Sick bastard must of done something terrible." he hissed, his eyes having a dark look to them.

"Alfred...don't do anything stupid.." he mumbled, pressing his forehead against the younger's back. The blonde tensed and raised an eyebrow at the Brit's action but didn't question it. "He'll get what's coming to him sooner or later...she'll probably come back for some sort of revenge..but I doubt she'd kill him." he shrugged and pulled away, walking away briskly out the front door. There was no way in hell he had showed some sort of affection to the American; oh God it was so embarrassing... he was such an idiot! Before he was hardly out the door Alfred gripped his wrist tightly, smiling at the older. "What was that?" he questioned, his smile becoming soft.

The green-eyed man froze as he maintained eye contact with the teen, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was suddenly grateful for it being dark outside, so the teen couldn't see the blush that now covered his cheeks. The grip on his wrist relaxed and became gentle, the younger blonde's eyes widening. There didn't need to be words, it was rare for Arthur to be so quiet over anything. It was pretty obvious what he was thinking. "Well..I-"  
He was cut off by Alfred, who was now hurrying toward the car. "Shall we get going then?! We have food waiting at the motel and everything!" he pointed out with fake cheer, hopping in the car without any hesitation. Arthur gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes before rolling them, following after him. So much for saying anything.

* * *

**A/N: This is where the "sexual tensions" begin guys, just fyi~**


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